


Brave New World

by DevinBourdain



Series: Manifest Destinies [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Army, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jail, Robbery, Vulcans as a first nations tribe, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinBourdain/pseuds/DevinBourdain
Summary: Some of the defining moments of Scotty's life that lead him to joining outlaw Jim Kirk. Character origin story for Western Enterprises Series. Western AU.He blames a particularly nasty local brew for ever letting him believe it was a good idea to shoot at bottles of Nitroglycerin. He can't remember how the conversation deteriorated into how big a hole someone could blast into a mining site or how he ends up standing a couple yards away from several small bottles of the explosive with a gun waving dangerously in his hand, but when opportunity presents itself...Local law officials don't seem to share his sense of humor as Scotty quickly finds himself marched and manhandled into the local jail cell. It isn't all bad, a roof over his head and three square meals a day for the foreseeable future if the sheriff has his way. It's a bit of a load off his plate, ensuring his survival for a little while longer. The cell's not exactly his aesthetic and conversation extremely one-sided but he's exceptionally good at working with what he has.





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.  
> Warnings: language and violence  
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated

Montgomery Scott always had an eye for fine craftsmanship. His father and grandfather were both engineers and his uncle a watch maker. He remembers spending hours captivated by his uncle's steady hands and attention to detail as he crafted a very special watch for Scotty. Such fine craftsmanship is undoubtedly worth the price of a boat ticket and then some. Keenser's a wildly crafty Irishman who has a talent for reselling things but isn't beyond cheating Scotty out of some money. It's only because they're friends that he allows it, but only a little; there has to be some honor among thieves. Keenser turns the watch over in his hand as he studies it, looking for any defect that he can haggle the price down with, before begrudgingly handing over his ticket for the soon departing steamboat.

Scotty could get a better price for the watch if he waited, could sell it through reputable people and purchase his own ticket for a boat later, but the death of his dear grandmother has left him antsy. His mother passed on the boat ride across the ocean when the family decided to carve out a brighter future, his grandfather passing a short year after they arrived. Death wasn't done with the Scott family by any means, taking his father while Scotty was barely out of diapers. Now with his grandmother's passing, the only family he's really known, he is well and truly alone in the world. His uncle has long since married and migrated away from the eastern coast to a life more elevated than that of the poor immigrant struggling in the new world. There's nothing here for him except memories and unemployment and people getting wise to his scamming ways. The only chance he has is to try his hand with the new frontier and if he doesn't leave this moment, he might not have the courage to do it later.

He begrudgingly takes the ticket sans any additional cash and makes his way to the dock. The trip takes forever but somewhere along the way he manages to charm the crew, trading services working in the engine room for the moonshine they smuggled aboard. He drifts once he hits land again, going from town to town looking for employment that utilises his skills and satisfies his interests with little success. He's not cut out for life in manual labor and refuses to be indentured to a company because his heritage is looked upon unfavorably. Still, he believes he's better off than he was back in New York.

He does enjoy his tour of local saloons through his travels but blames a particularly nasty local brew for ever letting him believe it was a good idea to shoot at bottles of Nitroglycerin. He can't remember how the conversation deteriorated into how big a hole someone could blast into a mining site or how he ends up standing a couple yards away from several small bottles of the explosive with a gun waving dangerously in his hand, but when opportunity presents itself...

He takes aim and pulls the trigger, smiling with childlike glee at the subsequent explosion that shakes the earth and leaves a crater in the landscape.

Local law officials don't seem to share his sense of humor as Scotty quickly finds himself marched and manhandled into the local jail cell. It isn't all bad, a roof over his head and three square meals a day for the foreseeable future if the sheriff has his way. It's a bit of a load off his plate, ensuring his survival for a little while longer. The cell's not exactly his aesthetic and conversation extremely one-sided but he's exceptionally good at working with what he has.

He's lying on his cot when he hears the door to the Sheriff's office door open. His rumbling stomach hints that it's probably dinner time. "What have you brought me today?" he asks, swinging his feet over the side of the cot and sitting up to look at the deputy.

"You're not the deputy," he says bewildered at the stranger holding his dinner tray.

The man is tall and distinguished and wears his uniform well. Scotty has a sense of unease as he sees the Captain's stripes on the man's sleeve as he puts the tray down on the Sheriff's desk and pulls a chair close to the cell. He doesn't have a good history with authority and no one has more of an air of authority than the army, who has worse punishments than rotting in jail to back them up. Bringing in the big guns suggests a level of malice Scotty's doesn't believe himself capable of or an attempt at railroading. Nobody got hurt and they were digging in that mine anyway, there's no reason to bring an army official in on such a minor infraction. He raises an eyebrow as the Captain stares at him for a moment. He feels like he's going to end up being dinner, broiled under the man's scrutiny.

"What's for dinner," Scotty asks nervously, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs.

The Captain reaches over and lifts the lid off the tray and examines the contents. "Looks like some sort of stew," he says casually.

"Well how bout it then?" Scotty motions towards the tray of food. Much to his dismay the Captain sets the lid down and turns his focus back to Scotty. The man's easygoingness does nothing to soothe the engineer's unease and suspicion.

"That was an interesting little stunt you pulled."

"It was no wee stunt," snaps Scotty, feathers clearly ruffled. "Way I hear it they're pullin gold outta that hole as we speak." It's bad enough he has to suffer this indignity, he won't have his work impugned. Some people just refuse to acknowledge brilliance.

"I've asked around about you," continues the Captain undeterred by the hostility radiating off of the prisoner.

Scotty sneers. "All good things, I'm sure." He has no disillusions about what kind of man he is; knows where his faults lie and where they don't. At best he can label himself a drunk and brilliant engineer but most people use words more in the vein of scoundrel. He rarely leaves a good impression of himself but his work speaks for itself and in the end when time turns him to dust, it's the work and innovations that are going to last. In the meantime, if people can't handle his eccentric personality, or see through his shabby exterior to the brilliance within, that's their misfortune.

"You're a brilliant engineer." It's the truth, though he did have to dig through the condemnation people seemed to pile on when he asked about Scotty. It seems the last few towns the Scotsman staggered through thought little of the man, but respected his talent.

Scotty sits up a little straighter, a little more intrigued. People in uniform, or with any authority for that matter, don't focus on his skills, rather they focus on his lengthy list of crimes. "Go on."

"I could use someone with your skills. If you're willing to join, I can get you out of here, today."

"What? Me join the army? I don't bloody think so." He crosses his arms for good measure. He's a free spirit, going his own way, he doesn't march to the beat of anyone else's drum or bugle or whatever they're using these days. Killing has never been on his list of things to do and he certainly doesn't subscribe to army ideals.

The Captain shrugs as though it makes no difference in his day. "Suit yourself. If you'd prefer to languish here instead of putting your talents to use I can find someone else to certify ordnance and fix things." He gets up and straightens his jacket. "Enjoy your stay here," he bids before making his way to the door, the tray of food still sitting out of reach on the Sheriff's desk.

Scotty chews on his bottom lip. The little boy in him is excited about what kind of mischief he could get into with free reign of army supplies but he's never been one to conform to anyone's standards before. It's not like he has a lot to lose but it has to be better than this jail cell and the nothingness that looms after it. At least his needs will be met and he won't have to forage anymore or so he can hope. He doubts he's going to get a better offer anywhere else, but he wishes he didn't have to entertain this one. Besides, once he's taken advantage of the situation, how hard could it be to slip away? Surely the army has better things to do than chase him down when he reneges on this deal.

"Wait!" he calls out. "Are you gonna have food?"

The Captain stops and walks back to the cell, looking serious. "I'm sure we can find you a hot meal." He takes the key off the desk and unlocks the cell door setting Scotty free. "Captain Christopher Pike of the twelfth regiment." He offers his hand to Scotty and they share a firm handshake. "Welcome to the army."

Scotty follows Pike outside where another officer is waiting on a horse. The young officer is paying more attention to the girls trying to draw future clients into the brothel than pair walking out of the Sheriff's office. If this is the best the army has to offer, Scotty fears for the future of mankind. Their drafting pool is clearly children just out of diapers that are more interested lying with a woman for the first time than pulling their heads out of their asses and exuding any kind of authority. Clearly the intimidation factor he's heard whispers of is just a bold face lie. Pike takes the reins for his horse that Kirk is holding and climbs up. "This is Lieutenant Kirk," he says pulling the kid's attention to the matter at hand. "He'll see to it you get a good meal, a comfortable sleep and a uniform in the morning before bringing you to camp."

The kid on the horse nods. "Yes sir."

"Kirk," warns Pike, leaning over to make sure the Lieutenant hears him and subsequently Scotty through the less than subtle tone, "don't make me have to come back here in the morning to bail you two out of jail." He spurs his horse onward taking the road out of town towards the army camp. The army doesn't stay in town, preferring to erect their own base camps to keep the men from running amuck in town.

A wicked smile over takes the blond, like the devil himself just gave him the keys to the kingdom. Scotty's not sure if he should be worried or not. He just got out of trouble, he doesn't need to find more just yet; especially someone else's. He slides out of his saddle and lands gracefully on his feet. He extends his hand towards Scotty. "Jim Kirk."

"Montgomery Scott, but ya can call me Scotty."

Jim claps him on the shoulder. "What do you say we get ourselves a drink?"

* * *

Reluctantly, Scotty acclimates well to army life. He generally doesn't get along with the officers but Pike puts Kirk in charge of him if he needs to interact with authority, but generally is afforded the space and tools necessary to engage his genius. The Lieutenant is the only one other than Pike he really has to answer to and the kid turns out to be not only an excellent drinking partner but a good friend. Scotty doesn't even think about abandoning his new life.

When Kirk gets sent to another detachment to oversee some land treaties, Scotty goes with him. There isn't a lot for him to do on a peaceful negotiation, so he spends his time around camp fiddling with his inventions and picking up gossip about the other regiments.

It's the end of another long day monotonous day of waiting while superiors hammer out details when Kirk bursts into the tent, out of breath and almost frantic. "Corporal Scott, can I speak with you," he says, formally, looking around the tent at the other men performing their duties.

"Aye," says Scotty with an uneasy feeling. Kirk's the only other person he's met that has a penchant for trouble like he does and if the kid's found something to get worked up about here, it doesn't bode well for the coming days. These are peaceful negotiations so it can't be army related and he has no family and besides Kirk no friends so it can't be bad news from home. He follows Kirk out of the tent and away from any ears. The secrecy does nothing to calm the Scotsman's nerves.

"I need a favor Scotty." Kirk's desperate in a way Scotty's never seen him before. There's genuine fear in his eyes and every line of his body screams of flighty concern; he looks at Scotty like he'd singlehandedly save the universe if he accepts Jim's request. The fact that it's a favor means it's not army sanctioned and if he knows Jim as well as he does, trouble is sure to follow. It's Jim, he's never steered him wrong before, so he doesn't hesitate, not one second before saying, "What do you need, Jim."

* * *

The negotiations at Vulcan are a disaster. The official story being that Lieutenant Kirk formed a resistance against the army leading the Vulcan's to attack the detachment leading to the slaughter of both Vulcans and service men alike. Scotty can't actually comment on the events leading up to the battle he witnessed but it hardly sounds like the Jim he's gotten to know.

The internal investigation lasts for days, leaving the engineer slumped in an uncomfortable chair under the demanding gaze of his superiors as they work to bury Kirk for the malicious crime. Scotty listens passively as his superiors relay events and demand to know how Kirk got a hold of the explosives he used. He knows Jim, and while the kid had been extremely vague about what he was going to do, he can't bring himself to buy the party line. He doesn't sell the kid out, simply pleads ignorance on the subject. If Kirk had sold him out, he knows he'd be in the jail cell sitting next to Kirk instead of being questioned.

He kind of regrets just handing over the supplies Jim had asked for. He should have asked more questions; should have gotten involved more; should have out right refused what the impetuous kid was asking and saved Jim Kirk from himself. At least then he'd be better equipped to understand what happened, to defend Kirk's honor and reputation against what the army claims. Instead it looks like Jim protected him from the fallout of his actions and Scotty can only imagine what fate awaits Kirk with charges like those. He has no idea what actually transpired, knows Jim is capable of everything they said he did and more, but deep down he knows Jim wouldn't do it without a damn good reason.

The army can't pin anything on him, but won't let him stay; as far as they're concerned he's as guilty as Kirk for the whole mess. Scotty's not sure he wants to stay anymore anyways so it's just as good that they part ways now. He leaves town the day before Kirk's scheduled to be hanged for treason because he can't bring himself to watch a good man dangle on the end of a rope. He needs to find a town with a bar anyways; attempt to wash away the sorrow and guilt and the messy swirl they've become in his soul.

Of all the people he can run into, he finds Keenser who's carved out a manageable existence for himself in the first shithole of a town Scotty stumbles into. It's a relief to see a familiar face so far from home and in the wake of losing another friend. He spends the day getting drunk, refusing to think about Jim's fate and Keenser's nice enough to cover the tab and not ask any questions.

He gains some employment helping the local blacksmith and supplements his income by building various tools and devices for Keenser to sell. He boards with the Irishman and while it's not the lap of luxury, it's a roof over his head and a place to hang his hat. Scotty tries really hard to view his current situation as less fulfilling than his work with the army; he hadn't even wanted to join in the first place, he absolutely won't let himself miss it. He doesn't need the friendship and loyalty of a cocksure commanding officer or a sense of purpose from trying to make the world a safer place. He just needs tool and something to tinker with, to make himself get up in the morning.

* * *

He gets lost in the repetitiveness of daily life, the only excitement he has to look forward to are his nights spent drinking and gambling. He's happy drunk when he sees his first ghost and writes it off as a hallucination brought on by a bad batch of moonshine. It certainly isn't guilt that usually fuels his dreams when he breaches the walls of remorseful and bitter drunk. He tells himself he won't feel guilty for things that were out of his hands.

The next night he's a little more reserved with his consumption and is absolutely certain he knows the ghost who tonight is stranding at his table with a devilish grin. "Jim Kirk, I canna believe it," he shouts, jumping out of his chair and embracing the kid in a bone crushing hug. Definitely not a ghost after all.

"Scotty," laughs Jim, returning the hug. Kirk sits down at the table with his Vulcan companion and motions to the bartender to bring him a glass.

"It's good to see ya laddie!" Scotty raises his glass in a toast. "I was under the impression the army stretched yer neck out." There's a sense of relief bubbling up through Scotty and the world seems a little more bearable now.

"They tried," say Kirk solemnly. He goes unnaturally still and quiet, uncomfortable with the memory and everything he lost. He clears his throat and tilts his head towards his companion; deflection has always been a game he excels at. "Scotty, this is Spock."

"Pleasure," greets Scotty extending his hand across the table. Spock just looks at it but makes no move to take it.

"I need a favor from you, Scotty," starts Jim, all business.

Scotty looks at his extended hand with a frown before withdrawing it and rubbing it against his pant leg. Vulcans aren't known for conforming to social norms so he tries not to take offense. "Ach no," he says angrily screwing his face up in refusal. He's not a fan of repeating history and he's pretty sure luck isn't going to strike twice to save Kirk from himself again. "Last time I did you a favor, I received a very stern dressing down from one Lieutenant-colonel Archer and was thrown out of the bloody army!"

"You hated the army," counters Jim.

"Oh aye, but you know what I hate even more, Jim? Not having a bloody job!" snaps Scotty, his outrage clear.

" _Scotty_ ," begs Kirk.

Spock sits back impassively observing the exchange but saying nothing.

"No, there isn't a line up of people lookin to employ a dashing Scottish engineer. Even if he is a genius. The only place would be the railway but they won't do it after what happened with the Vulcans." The railway and army have tentative ties if not backdoor deals. They certainly aren't looking to redeem anyone the army tossed out.

Jim leans forward, elbows resting on the table. "I need someone that can blow a safe open but not destroy the contents in it." He's being intentionally vague to protect all involved or who could potentially be involved.

"So it's robbery you're resorting to now is it, Jimmy?" Scotty scrutinizes his friend. Clearly the kid didn't have his fill of trouble when he went up against the army and lost. "Well that's brilliant man."

"Can you do it?" he asks, not looking for approval of his life choice but a commitment of skill.

"No!" He declares then lowers his voice, "maybe." He hasn't met a challenge he couldn't overcome but the question is does he want to throw his lot in with Jim again. He finishes off his glass and says, "Yes."

Jim smiles and gives a reassuring glance to Spock. "I told you he was the best."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," says Scotty. "What's it pay?"

* * *

The room is dark except for the glow of moonlight a week after agreeing to Jim's madness. It's not ideal working conditions but Scotty could do this with his eyes closed. Kirk leans casually against the table as Scotty rigs the explosives on the safe. Jim took care of the breaking in part with surprising ease, helping the Scotsman carry in his supplies while Spock's sitting pretty on the roof across the street, rifle in hand. He's the look out and their cover fire should things go south.

Jim's after the documents in the safe and Scotty's not entirely sure he wants to know what's so important it has to be locked in a state of the art custom made safe in a bank that isn't money or gold. The less he knows the more he can deny later and Jim has that dangerous glint in his eye like he's on a mission. The whole thing reminds him of Vulcan and he doesn't want a repeat, for himself or for Jim.

"So you trust you're pointed eared friend there, do ya?" he asks conversationally without stopping rigging the explosive. Kirk should have someone watching his back, he's seen what happens when there isn't. He's not surprised that Jim could inspire loyalty out of anyone but given the fact that the army just had a clash with the Vulcans, seeing one joined at the hip of a former Lieutenant seems an odd place to find loyalty. Scotty's never felt obligated to anyone before, not even Keenser, but he's never been friends with someone as loyal as Jim before either. It's the first time in his life he felt that there was someone who couldn't name a price to sell Scotty out.

"Spock? With my life. Why?" He doesn't sound offended by the question. Scotty knows Jim wouldn't risk his life with someone he didn't trust watching their backs but he can't fathom what a reckless, devil-may-care like Jim would have in common with a Vulcan, nor why a Vulcan would forsake logic and throw his lot in with Jim.

"Cause when I set this off, not only is it going to take the door off, but it's gonna make a hell of a noise and everyone in town's gonna know we're here," he warns. It's Jim last chance to back out.

"Spock'll cover us, don't worry," Jim assures.

Scotty lights the fuse and takes a step back to stand beside Jim. "You might want to take cover."

The pair run to the other side of the table, flip it over and duck behind it. The panes of glass in the windows rattle as the shockwave rolls through the building. Jim and Scotty peer over the edge of the table like a couple of kids checking to see if the coast is clear. The door to the safe is lying uselessly on the side of the room leaving all its treasures exposed. "Whadda I tell ya," laughs Scotty.

"You're a miracle worker, Scotty," confirms Kirk as he runs over and searches through the safe. He holds up an envelope and tube in triumphant. "Let's get out of here." They take off like bandits in the night before the town can rally and investigate the noise.

* * *

The early rays of morning are peaking over the rolling hills in the distance when the trio stops riding. They commandeer an empty hunting cabin and sit around the table. Jim clears it with one swipe of his arm and lays the envelope down. He opens the tube and pulls out a set of rolled up blue prints. Before unrolling them he says, "If you want to walk away Scotty, this is your chance." He looks serious like sticking around is tandem to stepping off a cliff.

He doesn't know exactly what Jim's got himself caught up in but he knows his character and this has to be something pretty important to go to all the trouble when the army has to be breathing down his neck. Scotty didn't take action last time and wrestled with the guilt, he'd like to change that this time around. "I'd like to know what all the fuss is about, if it's all the same to you."

Jim nods and unrolls the blue prints. They're a proposed rail line that runs through the lands that belonged to the Vulcan tribe, the same land the army had been sent in to negotiate for and the Vulcans were refusing to relinquish. The envelope contains letters outlining in no uncertain terms the Vulcans be removed from the land by any means necessary so the rail line can be built on the land.

It's a practical smoking gun of who was supposed to get their hands dirty taking care of the native problem and who was going to reap the rewards. Kirk's finger runs down the list. There's names of army officers and men of state they have no hope of touching but Jim seems specifically fixated on the name of a shady business man who played an important role: Nero. His finger comes back to it and settles on the name, there in black bold print and every line of his body becomes tense.

"This Nero was going to slaughter the Vulcans if they didn't agree to leave?" asks Scotty putting the pieces together as he reads over Kirk's shoulder. Jim nods silently, grinding his teeth. "You tried to warn them," he says, realizing just what Jim had set out to do almost a year ago.

"A lot of good it did," sneers Kirk, the self incrimination rolling off him in waves.

"You were able to save the lives of many of my people. Had you not acted, we would have all perished," assures Spock.

"We're going to make Nero pay," promises Jim. "You want in Scotty?"

Scotty can see the grief tearing Jim a part, a half victory is tantamount to failure in the kid's book. He didn't suffer like Spock nor Jim during the incident with the Vulcans, can't say Nero destroyed his life, but he did lose the life he had begun to carve out for himself. It's not worth a man's life but it deserves retribution and he can't say Nero doesn't deserve everything he's going to get for what he did to everyone else.

Scotty hasn't always agreed with Kirk's causes but they always land on the side of right even if popular opinion and common sense say to walk away. He doesn't exactly have anything to go back to and nothing in particular to run towards. Having Jim's back seems a good a plan as any. He'll at least have a good drinking partner until things end in a blaze of glory. And if he's going to go out, it might as well be for something worthwhile.

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do Jim."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this story, commented and/ or left kudos, you're the best.  
> Thanks to CaptainNinapants for beta reading this story.  
> There is an origin story for each member of the gang: Kirk, Spock, Pike, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and then McCoy


End file.
